What We Deserve
by SSJL
Summary: A continuation on 'Angst in a Car.' AKA Bella's Birthday Story.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Ahem.**

**Happy Angsty Biiiiirthday, to you!**

**Happy Angsty Biiiiiirthday to you.**

**Happy Angsty Tear-Your-Heart-Out B/B Biiiirthday Dear Bella.**

**Happy Birthday to you!**

**What follows is the start of a continuation of a particular "Scene From a Hat" called Angst in a Car, written by request for Bella-mi-Amore. I told her I'd write it for her birthday. She took me seriously:)**

**Said Scene should be read beforehand. SSJL and Bella take no responsibility for any tissue-box exhaustion, throwing of laptops across the room, or throwing self out of window. Read at your own risk.**

**Love ya, C. It's okay that you couldn't wait. I couldn't, either:)**

**--**

The call came late…too late to be a casual 'hey, howya doin' from a friend, but it wasn't on his work phone. He took a couple swipes at his alarm clock before his sleep-muddled mind realized that wasn't where the sound was coming from.

"Answer the phone, honey," his wife murmured from beside him.

Rolling over, his hand finally made contact with the chirping phone. In a rasp, he answered. "'lo?"

"Booth, is that you?" The voice sounded far away, and it sounded familiar, but he still had trouble placing it.

"Yeah?"

"Oh thank God. I was worried you didn't have this number anymore." The voice, having lost its uncertainty, was now apparent. Angela.

"No, it's still me." Struggling up, his feet felt around on the floor for his slippers. "It's a surprise to hear from you, though. Especially…so late." His ankle hit the bed stand, and he let out a soft curse. Finally finding his slipper, he got up and maneuvered by nightlight into the hallway, shutting the door gently behind him. "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

There was no answer, and a surge of adrenaline suddenly made him feel much more awake. "Ange?"

"Yeah. No. I mean…no one has died or anything. I'm sorry. You can't believe how long I went back and forth about calling you." He heard her sigh fretfully, and he wasn't comforted by her words. "It's Brennan."

He knew it. The second he heard his old colleague's voice, he knew it. "What's wrong with Bones."

"I don't know. That's the problem."

Rubbing his eyes, he shook his head. "This isn't making a whole lot of sense."

"The thing is, Booth, if I knew what the problem was, I could help her with it. And I sure as hell wouldn't be calling you. But I'm feeling _extremely _helpless at the moment, and I don't know what to do, and I'm calling you because I feel like if I don't do _something _I'm going to go out of my mind." Her tone had an edge of desperation to it that scared the shit out of him. He tried one more time.

"I really don't know if I'm the person to be talking to, Angela. Bones and I…we haven't really talked in a long time. Surely someone else…maybe Oliver…"

"She is not with Oliver anymore. She broke up with him."

His stomach clenched with the sneaking suspicion that he was slightly less mystified by whatever was happening than was Angela. Whatever was wrong with Bones had something to do with him. He'd bet his life on it.

"Should I call her?" he asked, quietly. Uncertainly.

"I very much doubt she'd tell you anything when she has the option to hang up."

The frustration he was feeling rose a notch to match Angela's. "What should I do, then?"

"Get here."

"Ange, I…" he paused, thoughts racing in no particular direction except towards his old partner. "Maybe…I can come this weekend."

"No. That's not soon enough."

"You're asking a lot."

"I know. But please Booth. Do this for her. Please?"

He paced in the hallway. He rubbed his forehead. He sank down onto his haunches with his back against the wall. "Yes."

The relief in her voice was palpable. "Thank you."

"I don't know what I can…"

"I don't care if you know yet. Just…thank you."

When he disconnected the call, he sat there for a few more minutes, blinking in the darkness. Finally, he got up and shuffled back to his bedroom. Sliding into bed, he felt his wife turn and wrap her arm around him. "Who was that?" she asked sleepily.

"Just something I need to take care of."

"What?"

"Nothing, babe. Go back to sleep."

Nothing. Except needing to face up to the second-biggest mistake that he had made in his life. The first having been falling in love with his partner in the first place.

--

He hadn't been sure if his keycard for the lab would still work. Technically, he should have had it deactivated when he stopped working here in D.C., but he wasn't a true employee of the lab and the fact that he had a key may have slipped by unnoticed. He had hoped. Otherwise, he'd be stuck waiting outside of the building like a stalker after-hours. Or he'd have to go to her apartment and wait for her. Like a stalker. Or call her. And, if Angela's prediction was correct, be hung up on.

He swiped his card. It was his lucky goddamn day.

The smell that hit him as he came into the building was one that he never thought he'd respond to with fondness, but the instant it entered his nose there was a part of him that felt back in his element. Even though he had never been so far away from it in his life.

Walking softly into the lab he saw her, alone. The last time they had met, she had been dressed to the nines, looking more like a high-class society girl than the practical scientist she was. Today, she wore the lab coat that was her trademark, hair pulled back in the no-nonsense ponytail that he used to associate with her. In the old days, when he closed his eyes, the first image of Bones was that practical scientist.

Anymore, when he closed his eyes, the first image that came to his mind was her astride him, lavender dress pushed down at the waist to expose her flushed cheeks and breasts at his face, begging for him to fuck her in his car.

Stop. Stop stop stop.

Her eyes widened when she first recognized she wasn't alone here anymore, and seemed to bulge impossibly for a moment when she processed who the intruder was. She recovered quickly. She always did.

"Come here often?" he asked her. The joke rang hollow, and not even a hint of a smile touched her face.

"Why are you here?" Alright, Bones. She was apparently not in the mood for small talk. He didn't know what the hell to say now, so he tried honesty.

"I don't really know. But I am."

Her face stayed impassive, and she looked back down at the bones spread in front of her on the lab table. "I don't know either. But you shouldn't be." Ouch.

He tried again. "C'mon, Bones. I thought we said…it'd be okay."

She looked at him with an expression he had seen hundreds of times before…the one that told him she felt he was just _purposefully _being ignorant. "Booth. That's just something people say. You know…like after a bad date, when you and the other person _know _you are never going out again, and you say "I'll see you around"? It's just…polite."

She was trying to teach _him _about social etiquette? He was unaware of the devastation on his face until she sighed and said, "Please don't look at me like that."

He couldn't look at her any other way, though. She looked beautiful. But she didn't look good. She looked pale, and thin, and she had dark circles under her eyes. So different from the vivacious woman he saw at Cam's wedding nearly two months…had it _really _been almost two months?...beforehand. Angela was right. Something was very, very wrong, and he could tell it in her face and her eyes and in his own gut.

"Bones. I know…something's wrong."

A snort left her lips. "Oh, God. Not this again."

"I'm serious," he pleaded.

Her eyes rolled back briefly, and as if giving up the hope of getting anything else done tonight, she stripped off her latex gloves dramatically. "Why does there have to be something wrong? You're hundreds of miles away, and I _still _can't get you to stop playing alpha-male-protector on me?"

"You're still my friend," he tried to remind her, desperately.

Ignoring him, she stared him down with icy eyes. "How's Jen?" she said, coolly.

Ouch. Even when she had been angry at him at Cam's reception, she hadn't been this hostile, this abrasive. Frustration rose inside him. He came here because Angela asked him to help her. He _didn't _come to be abused. Even if part of him believed he deserved every bit of it. "She's fine."

"That's good. Did you come to D.C. for a little family vacation? Did you have such a good time the last time you were here that you thought you'd bring her along for the ride?" The sarcasm in her voice was infuriating.

"This isn't about her, damn you," he said, harshness seeping into his voice. "This is about me and you, and whatever is obviously eating at you so much that you can't even talk to me like a normal person." He began pacing in front of the examining table that still stood as a barrier between them.

She sighed. "Booth, I get it, okay? We fucked. It was a mistake. But you projecting your guilt onto me isn't helping. _I _am not your responsibility. _I _can take care of myself. _You _have a wife at home to worry about. So please…go home and worry about her." Her voice cracked on the last syllable, and he caught the change, his eyes widened at the introduction of some new emotion, some rawer one. "Just trust me on this one. Everything will be so much easier if you just go home and forget all about me and the wedding and that damn car and move on with your life."

He felt frustrated tears well in his eyes, and he hated them. "I _can't _forget, damn you."

She walked around the table and was suddenly in his face, her eyes wild. "You. _Have. _To." Each syllable enunciated, as if trying to force him backwards with each word.

It sparked his reactance, in tune with his anger at her easy dismissal of whatever huge, powerful thing had happened between them. Not just in the car on that cold wintry night. But everything that had every happened between them, in their entire relationship. "I _won't," _he promised, nostrils flaring. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. His statement came out of days, weeks, months of trying to suppress it. "We've _got _to figure something out, Bones. We can do this. We can help each other."

"You _can't help me. _You can only help yourself right now. Why can't you just believe me?" She was close to shouting now.

"How do you know if you _won't let me try?!" _He matched her volume, reaching for her wrist, wanting to shake her, wanting to force her pain out of her so it could join with his own.

She surprised him by jerking away at the first touch and grabbing _his _wrist instead. He looked down dumbly at his hand, which she gripped tightly and held against her belly. He didn't get it. He wouldn't get it. He _couldn't._

Her eyes bored into his while she pressed his hand against her womb. "I _told _you you didn't want to know," she hissed at him, and even while her face stayed cold, a tear fell down her cheek. She forcibly shoved his hand away then, and was tearing off her lab coat as she stalked out the door, leaving him in this cold, dark place that he no longer belonged in.

--

**A/N: Oh, yes. There shall be more. **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Happy Bones-Day! I post this knowing that no matter how angsty it gets, your mood will be lifted tonight by a new epi of our fave show. Very exciting!**

**Thanks so much for the incredibly awesome response to this story. You are the best readers a girl could ask for. Nobody even threatened to vandalize my house! Love yous.**

**Special thanks goes out to kinseyjo and mia101, who have been my looker-overs and have been so, incredibly supportive. They are also so disgustingly fabulous and talented that they should be very glad I love them, or else I might be the one vandalizing houses in a jealous fangirl rage. Yes, all you talented people. Take that as a warning. Am scary.**

**Loves.**

--

He went to the diner for awhile, because he didn't know where else to go. He drank his coffee and each time seemed vaguely surprised when the waitress appeared to refill him, not having remembered drinking the whole cup. But she must have done it six or seven times, and by the last his insides felt shaky from a caffeine overdose. So he walked. Walked around the once-familiar streets of Washington D.C., seeing but not really taking in all the landmarks which used to signify home. When he at last ended up at her apartment, it was more because he had run out of options, than that he truly meant to go there. He knocked, not completely expecting an answer, but he got one nonetheless. She opened the door quietly and stood aside, allowing him entrance. He floated in as if in a trance, somehow finding his way to her couch. They sat in silence for awhile.

"I'm sorry. I was kind of a jerk to you," she finally said, eyes cast downward as she fiddled with her fingers.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I just showed up out of nowhere." He was having similar trouble meeting her eyes.

Some more silence.

"Honesty-time, I guess?" he asked.

"I guess."

"Angela called me. She thought maybe I could help, because she was worried about you. I told Jen I was coming for Parker's soccer game this weekend. He's been asking me to come. Is tired of always being the one on the plane back and forth."

She nodded slowly. He glanced at her expectantly.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

How could she ask? Everything. Nothing. "How long?"

"Suspected for two weeks. Took a test last week."

"And you're…"

"Yes."

"And I'm…" He couldn't finish the question.

"Pretty likely. I didn't…unprotected…with Oliver. Or anybody else."

His head swam. "Temperance."

Her head fell back against the chair, light reflecting off her drawn face. "I didn't want you to know."

He shook his head dazedly. "You don't think I would have found out?"

She lifted her head. "No. You wouldn't have." Definitively.

His brain was stretched, overtaxed. It reacted violently against the implication of her words. "No," he whispered, shaking his head hard. "No. No."

"Booth." Her voice was strained. "You should just leave now. Just walk away."

"If I couldn't before, what makes you think I could now?" He was starting to feel a terrifying mixture of fury and shame and fear.

"I have an appointment with the doctor this weekend."

"Please don't do this. Please."

Her face was disbelieving. "Well what else do you recommend that I do, Booth? I'd love to hear it. Should I raise the child myself, and you can secretly send me a check once a month as your fatherly contribution? Should I tell Oliver it's his? Should you and I run away together and live in another country with our love child? Do those sound like better options to you?"

He understood what she was saying, the complete and utter impossibility of a satisfactory resolution to this situation. It convinced him of nothing, except his desire to die right at this moment. Just disappear, so that he could stop causing this extraordinary pain for everyone in his life whom he cared about.

"Why did you have to come back here," she regretted softly, although she understood as well as he the uselessness of wishing away what has happened.

"Well. There is the fact that I haven't been able to sleep for more than three hours at a time since that night, because I wake up with nightmares. There's the fact that I've been reprimanded twice since that time for making mistakes at work, because I can't concentrate on anything long enough to do it right. And then, there's that I haven't been able to make love to my wife without getting half-drunk first, because my mind will not allow my body to function naturally when everything feels so unnatural. I could go on, but you can just pick one of those things if you really need a reason," he responded, bitterly, numbly.

"Sorry, Booth. I get it. But right now, none of them seem good enough."

He thought for a second, then laughed hollowly. "I suppose they wouldn't."

Another silence fell over them, one that seemed that drag on for hours. What else was there to say? Nothing was adequate, or helpful.

"I don't suppose you have a hotel room tonight, so you can stay in the guest room. Or on the couch." Her voice was tired. So tired. "Tomorrow, I can drive you to the airport if you need a ride."

"I'm not leaving tomorrow." It was the first thing he had said with certainty since coming to her apartment.

"Booth…"

"I'm staying until this weekend. I'm not letting you do this alone."

"This isn't the time to be a martyr."

"Screw that."

She didn't respond.

His eyes met hers, and this time, wouldn't let them go. "We did this together, Temperance," he said. She could see in his face there was no arguing. "We're going to finish it together, too."

--

They sat across from one another at the diner the next day. Booth had to get out of her apartment. She had insisted on going to work. He knew better than to try to talk her out of it. She drank her tea. He drank his coffee. They both looked like war victims.

"Are you sure this is the right thing?" he asked quietly, sunken eyes studying her. His sleep on the couch had been fitful.

"It makes the most sense."

"And you can live with it."

"Yes. I don't believe what your religion teaches about this topic."

"I'm not talking about religion. Or…sense. I'm talking about you."

She was quiet, and he couldn't distinguish between his urges to leave, to shake her, to hold her.

"There's really…nothing I can say, is there?" he said, defeatedly. "Your mind is made up."

He couldn't read her face. "You think this is easy for me, Booth? That the thought of what I'm about to do isn't horrible, devastating? For once in my life I did something completely contrary to logic, to what I knew to be right. And not surprisingly, it turned out as badly as it could have. Now, we're dealing with the consequences. It kills me. It tears me apart. But I'm doing it because logically, there is no better choice. I'm not going to go against logic this time. Have gone that route. And this is where it brought us."

Sadness panged inside of him, and it took a moment to collect his thoughts. "You know…when I went to Cam's wedding, I told myself it was to make reparations with you and our team. But the instant I saw you…I had to fight to remember that mission. All I could think about was getting you to smile at me again. Really smile. Making you look at me again with that look you had for me at the end of our three years together…that respect and trust and caring. All I could think about was feeling at home again. And…as much as I have tried to fight knowing this…home was you, Bones."

She was getting uncomfortable, squirming in her seat. "I don't see how this is relevant to our current situation."

"What I'm saying is…I hate myself for what I've done to Jen. And I hate myself for the pain that you are going through. But what we did…being together…I don't believe that part was a mistake."

"I don't see how you can say that." She was shaking her head, trying not to hear him.

"Because I was there, Bones. I was there." His hand reached across the table and captured her own before she could pull it away. In spite of herself, her fingers gripped back at his as if clawing to the surface of some icy depths. "Do you remember?" he practically begged.

The memories were reflected in her eyes, and even though she didn't speak, he knew she was remembering. The undeniable pull that that encouraged her to join him in the car on that cold night. The irresistible attraction of her body in such close proximity to his own, the heat drawing them together. Knowing that, however complicated the circumstances in life outside that car, their bodies coming together was the most natural and beautiful thing either of them had ever experienced. She knew.

But…

"It doesn't change anything," she whispered. And she looked so hopeless in that moment that he feared what would happen if he even tried to challenge her, tried to pull away from her the one thing she believed now for certain: that she was doing the right thing.

Nodding tiredly, he released her hand. "Okay."

"Okay?" She looked vaguely surprised.

"Whatever you want, Bones. Whatever you need. I'll be there for you."

"It's what we need," she said quietly.

He didn't know if he believed her. But if it was what it took for her to believe in herself again, he wouldn't take it away from her.

--

**A/N: Thoughts? (-ducks-)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: How's that angst treatin' ya, C? Are we having fun yet? Le sigh. Everything I'm doing here, I'm doing it for you. And for your fellow angst-whores;) Of which...can't believe I'm going to admit this...I'm occasionally one.**

**Sigh. Look what you people have done to me.**

**Loves.**

* * *

He got a hotel room. He wanted desperately to see Parker, see his other friends, but he knew if they saw him, they'd know something was wrong…he was even more transparent than was Bones, so one look at him and the people in his life would be swarming.

"Are you excited for the game?"

"Huh?"

"The soccer game, silly. Your son's? My step-son's? What you went to D.C. for?"

"Oh." He clutched the phone white-knuckled to his ear. "Yeah. Sorry. I've been taking dealing with some other things here."

"Pretty stressful other things, huh?" He didn't answer. "Seeley, you sound tired. Relax. Enjoy time with your son. Everything else…it's low priority, 'kay?"

"It should be," he agreed tiredly. He used to have a good handle on his priorities. Now, nothing was so clear.

When he hung up with Jen, he berated himself internally for being a lying, cheating, worthless excuse for a human being for about 20 minutes. Then, he picked up the phone again, and dialed.

"Brennan."

"Hey. It's me." Silence. "Tomorrow…"

"Yes."

"What time?"

"One thirty."

"I'll pick you up."

"You don't have to do that."

"I'm going to."

There was a hesitation. "Okay."

He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that she didn't fight him more. Her voice sounded defeated.

"Hey Bones?"

"Yes?"

"You remember that night I was going to stay in your apartment, when we thought someone was after you? And I found your secret rock music stash…and we danced."

"Yes…I remember." Her tone turned curious. "Why?"

"Nothing, really. Just…that was a good night."

"Five minutes later, you got blown up," she pointed out, dryly. "Then I got kidnapped."

"But until that. Still. A good night."

He thought maybe he could hear her smile.

After he hung up, he found that previous 20 minutes of berating was hardly anything. This time, it lasted all night long.

--

It was still chilly out, but the air held promise of green leaves and flowers and full playgrounds. The joy of all that newness didn't quite touch him. He stood at the door of her apartment for awhile, not quite having the nerve to knock. Eventually, she opened door despite his lack of announcing his presence, regarding him with sunken eyes and an ashen face.

"Hey, Bones." He tried to smile, and it came out more like a grimace. "You look good."

"Liar."

He opened his mouth to argue, then found he didn't have the energy. "Are you…"

"Yes. I'm ready." She picked up her coat, which was lying over the couch. She wasn't even going to give him the satisfaction of hesitating. As she exited, he followed.

He spent the car ride trying unsuccessfully to think of something to say. Something comforting, something genuine, something that wouldn't make her too sad, yet also wouldn't devalue the anguish of this day. If the words existed, he couldn't find them. Although she had a vocabulary that boggled his mind, apparently she couldn't find them, either. They rode in silence.

The doctor's office had a sterile smell and a clinical look that couldn't be disguised by the paintings that were hung on the walls, drawn in soothing colors. It was a nice effort. But not good enough.

"Temperance Brennan. I have a 1:30 appointment," she told the receptionist, who gave her a clipboard and an endless packet of paperwork to complete. They sat beside one another, quietly, and she frowned as she filled out page after page.

"They want my whole life story," she commented.

"That would be a novel. An extraordinary one," he said, softly, gratified when she glanced up at him with her blue-gray eyes and a hint of a smile, which all-too-quickly faded.

"I'm sorry, Booth," she whispered. "I know…this isn't what you want."

"Shh." He took the hand next to him, that wasn't gripping the pen. "Don't think about that." Her fingers folded around his, and didn't let go.

Some time passed, but when the white-coated nurse appeared in the doorway and called her name, it still surprised him. Bones turned to him.

"Well. I guess it's time to make things right." She squeezed his hand, and made to stand.

He fought the second-most-powerful urge in his life, to not let go of her hand, to pull her to him and sob onto her shoulder, to beg her not to go back that hallway, to stay with him. It came it a wave that made him nauseous. When it subsided, he let go. "I'll be here," he whispered. And she turned and left with the nurse.

"Sir, are you okay?" a concerned voice asked him. The receptionist. He must have looked as if he was going to throw up. He wasn't entirely sure he wasn't going to.

"I'm fine," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and resting his head against the wall behind his chair.

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything," she said uncertainly. "If you need something to drink, please help yourself." She gestured to the water cooler that sat beside the opening to the hallway Bones had just disappeared down.

A million thoughts came and went in his mind. He thought of Rebecca and Parker. He thought of his old job, his old team. He thought of Bones, and the intensity of what he felt for her that had made him leave this place. He thought of Jen, and of the promises he made to her. He thought of his child. This child. The child who, in a few moments, would no longer exist. His gorge rose again, and he stood quickly, fighting a wave of dizziness. His fingers grasped at the paper cups of the water cooler, hand shaking as he tried to maneuver it under the spout to get a cold drink, hoping it would wash the taste from his mouth.

The water had barely started pouring when someone came reeling from the hallway and nearly collided with him. "What the…" The water splashed onto the floor, and he looked up, first vexed, then confused. "Bones?" He looked at the clock on the wall. Only ten minutes had passed since she had left him here. Was that really enough time to…

"Take me home." Her eyes looked wide, panicked.

"Bones, are you…What…?"

"Please. Now." Her voice begged for him not to question her. The other people in the reception area looked up at them, concerned.

He listened to her. "Come on." Wrapping his arm tightly around her, he guided her quickly towards the door. They didn't look back until they got to the car.

There, he looked at her, reclining against the seat with her eyes closed, panting slightly. His mind raced with concerned, fearful thoughts. "Sweetheart…"

"Just…home," she interrupted.

Without another word, he drove.

--


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Monday morning, and all is well. Happy Bonesday, all. I have no doubt it will be a beautiful one. Thanks and loves.**

--

At her apartment, he clicked the door shut quietly behind them. He had a million questions, but knew better than to push right now. Any more pushing and she might go straight over the edge.

As luck would have it, she didn't need a push. One moment she was tiredly dropping her purse and jacket onto the couch…out of character. She always neatly hung up her things. The next moment her head fell to her hands and she was sobbing quietly. Oh God. He was by her side in an instant, arms around her, squeezing her as if to keep her from falling away or falling apart.

Between her hiccupping tears, she spoke in his shoulder. "I couldn't do it. I just…I don't know what to do. I don't know who I am. But…I couldn't do it."

Then he was crying too, in anguish, in relief, in terror, in love, and he gripped her. "God, Temperance. I…just…God."

"I'm so sorry, Booth. For everything."

"Please, no. Don't…" Pressing kisses onto her forehead and temples and cheeks. "Don't apologize."

"Everything is ruined."

"We're gonna be okay."

In desperation, he took her mouth with his, trying to swallow her pain and dull his own. The instant his lips touched hers, he felt a nearly orgasmic surge of relief. Here, in each others' arms, was the one place in the universe they were safe.

His kiss was returned, and her hands clawed at his shoulders. Her lips were warm and wet, and he wasn't sure if he was tasting her tongue or her tears. All he knew is that the flavor was the one he had been yearning for since forever, the edge of his longing only sharpened by their encounter in the car a few months ago. He was helpless to pull away from her. Or perhaps, not helpless. But there was no part of him right now that wanted to.

Hands finding their way down to her bottom, he lifted her, unwilling to break their kiss, and she wrapped her legs around his back. How could a woman so strong and powerful be so light? No matter. His legs buckled just a little before beginning to stumble, propelling them towards her bedroom. He needed her. There was no doubt, no question. He. NEEDED. Her. And she needed him.

Reaching the bed, he made to lay her down, but her legs refused to stop squeezing his waist and he fell with her, on top of her. He groaned, luxuriating in the feeling of her stretched out underneath him, the way he had been wanting to feel her. Greedy hands were working their way up the muscles of his back, nails clutching and scratching at his skin under his tee-shirt. Even the bite of those nails on him felt like a strange release, a pleasurable penance for all his wrongs. Her tears trailed down her jaw and her throat. He chased them with his tongue and felt the vibration of her moans through his lips, pausing to pull her shirt over her head.

"I don't deserve this," she whispered, as his mouth remembered the contour and the weight of her breasts through her bra, sucking through the moistened silk to make her nipple stand rigid.

"We deserve each other," he promised her, and she reacted to the words by taking his head in her hands and forcing him back to the lips that otherwise wouldn't stop speaking their guilt. His hands pushed at the rest of her clothes. He hated those clothes, for standing in between him and her sweet, soft skin that he remembered tasted like honey and sugar and every delicious thing that had ever been on his tongue. Finally reaching his goal, his fingers begin the next task of touching every inch. He would have her naked this time. No halfway. He would have everything.

She let out a choked sob as his palm closed between her thighs, drawing heat from the place he wanted so badly to be. "Oh God Booth…"

"I've been wanting you so much," he swore in a whisper, fingers beginning to manipulate her, needing to hear her make sounds of pleasure. "All the time…only you…" Her eyes were squeezed shut and she seemed lost in her own gratification…then they opened and met his. There was a moment of connection that was so strong he nearly forgot what he was doing.

Then, she rolled, taking him with her momentum. She was upon him, and her tongue and lips were tracing the lines of his chest and stomach, descending downwards. "Bones, please…"

She wouldn't stop…her graceful fingers unbuttoned his pants and zipped down his fly easily, and her determinedly curious tongue was questing to the places he had only dreamed she ever would. "Bones…" He remembered in the car, when she had told him to fuck her, hard, and he knew that it was to undermine the connection they were making, to sexualize the encounter into having less meaning. He couldn't take that this time. Taking her by the shoulders, he pulled her up to him, face-to-face, eye-to-eye. She froze there, her face a canvas painted with a thousand emotions. He knew she resented this, being forced to see him, when she was trying to escape. He also knew that she needed it.

Her tears wouldn't stop falling. "I hate you, Booth," she whispered, with feeling.

He nodded in understanding. "I love you, Temperance."

With a sob of frustration, she took his mouth again.

This time, when their bodies came together, they did so slowly. Knowing that if this beautiful act was going to cause so much pain, they could at least try to make it worth it.

--

They lay in the midday glow of the sun through the shades. His head rested upon her naked belly, fingers tracing circles around her navel.

"You're thin," he commented, trailing his fingertips up over her ribs. "Shouldn't you be gaining weight?"

She looked down at him, hand in his hair, stroking gently. "It's not atypical to lose weight early in the first trimester. It'll change soon."

He thought of it, her stomach growing rounder while his child grew inside of her. A pang of joy-pain that was becoming ever more familiar hit him. "You're gonna look gorgeous."

A soft laugh escaped her. "Says you." He smiled against her tummy.

After a few moments of silence, he spoke up. "Do you really hate me, Bones?"

Her hand stilled in his hair. "What do you think?"

He didn't answer.

"Do you really love me?" she asked.

He looked upwards at her. "What do you think?"

More silence, neither quite sure the appropriate thing to do or say in this situation.

"We need to figure some things out," he said, finally. Playing the role of master of the obvious.

"Yes," she agreed.

"I'm not sure I can do that while we are naked." It came out sounding like a joke, although he genuinely believed it to be true.

"Ah. Well, what do you suggest, then?"

Lifting his head, he scooted up the bed next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Does the diner still have that good pie? I forgot to look when I was there the other day."

She smiled ruefully. "Nothing like making major life decisions over pie at the diner."

"Making major life decisions, and fattening you up at the same time. Two birds, one stone."

"Are you hungry?"

"Not one little bit."

"Me, neither."

"It's settled then. Diner, it is."

They shared a smile, and he allowed himself the brief, intense fantasy that they could just stay in this bedroom for the rest of their lives and be exactly like this.

--


	5. Chapter 5

"I've missed this pie."

She watched him amusedly from across the table.

"You should have some."

"I'm quite happy with my fruit plate, Booth."

"Man cannot live on fruit alone, Bones."

"Good thing I'm not a man than, huh?"

He gave her a look, that quickly faded into a gentle smile. They were in no less trouble than they were when he showed up at her lab a few nights ago. But somehow, having everything on the table, and his feelings acknowledged, he felt lighter. However, she would not allow the mood to stay light for long. She was too practical.

"I don't expect you to leave your wife," she said quietly, and his eyes darkened at the inevitable revisiting of these issues.

"Bones, I…"

"You are a man who honors your commitments. And I wouldn't expect you to do otherwise."

"I'm not going to abandon you."

"I know that. But you won't abandon her, either."

He opened his mouth, then realized he didn't know what he was going to say, so he closed it. One thing that he occasionally forgot that was before he had left, Bones had known him. That was part of what frightened him away, how well she knew him. And despite all that had happened, she knew that he wouldn't have married Jen if he didn't love the woman, somehow, and someway.

"Booth?" she queried, softly. "It's okay. You shouldn't abandon her."

Exhaling loudly, he shook his head. "I don't think you get it, Temperance. It's not as simple as should or shouldn't. You're right. I do love her."

Her face reflected quiet acceptance.

"But…I love you. I have for a long time. And no matter how wrong it has been, or painful, or complicated, nothing in the world feels as completely right as when I'm with you."

She sighed. "Oh, Booth. Why didn't you tell me that before? Before you ran away like…like I was threatening you or something?"

"I wish I would have," he said quietly. "God, I do. But…I really, really thought there was no way we could be together. It wasn't until it was a true impossibility…after I was married…that I realized just how badly I needed you." He laughed emptily. "I should have taken the chance. I know it. No matter what the risk, I should have taken it. Because even you rejecting me would have been better than this."

"You could say that again," she replied dryly, and he nodded. Conceding, she added something. "I suppose…I could have done something, too."

"We were both afraid."

Their eyes met in mutual recognition of the irony. That fear? Had been nothing compared to this.

They both startled as Booth's phone, sitting on the table, vibrated, shaking the surrounding salt and pepper shakers loudly. They looked at it. The name JENNY was displayed in capitals across the screen. They looked at one another.

"I don't have to get that," he said, softly.

"You should."

He hesitated.

"Go on," she encouraged.

He picked up the phone and hit answer, slowly bringing the phone to his ear. "Hey."

"Hey, baby. Whatcha doing?"

"I'm…" I'm coming to terms with the fact that I ruined everything. Like an idiot. "I'm catching up with my old partner. How about you?"

"Where?" she asked, ignoring his question.

"Um…at the diner. The Royal Diner. We used to come here all the time."

"Is it close to your hotel?"

He was thrown by her line of questioning. "Uh, yeah. Just a block away, actually. Why?"

"Just wondering. I miss you. Was wondering what you were up to."

"Oh…okay." He shook his head slightly.

"Can't wait to see you again. Love you."

"Uh…yes. You too." The phone disconnected, and he looked at it, confused.

"What was that about?" Brennan asked him, looking similarly perplexed.

"I'm…not sure." Shaking it off, he focused on the woman in front of him. "Anyway. We were saying."

Her face was impassive. "We were saying that we are fucked."

There was absolutely nothing funny about her statement, but it surprised a snort out of him. She smirked back at him, and he was, not for the first time, entranced by just how different and beautiful were each one of her too-rare smiles. His gaze of adoration turned to concern when he notice the subtle changes on her face…from the smile, to confusion, to something that looked suspiciously like horror.

"Bones? What's wrong?"

She seemed unable to vocalize, and merely nodded in the direction of the diner entrance. He turned.

"Surprise!" His wife seemed so foreign in this particular context, that it took him a full 3 seconds to actually, really process that she was there. She ran toward him and he stood, numbly, while she wrapped her arms around him.

"Told you I couldn't wait to see you," she whispered against his shoulder.

--

**A/N: Although I hate to make such a happy announcement at the end of such an angsty chapter, I just must. Mia101 and I shall be piloting our first joint effort very soon at an M site near you! We call ourselves 5 Steamboats Shipping Co. (get it? SHIPPING? We crack ourselves up. Pretty much hourly), and you can find our profile link in _my _profile. You aren't gonna wanna miss this one, kiddies. It shall be epic:-D**

**Loves.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks, all, for sticking around through this particular roller coaster. I know it isn't exactly a fun ride, but I do hope it's a meaningful one.**

**One chapter after this one! You all have been little troopers. Much love and appreciation to you.**

--

"So you're the famous Dr. Brennan!"

Bones' hand extended on autopilot as she shook his wife's.

"Gosh, it's great to finally meet you. You're even more gorgeous than in the pictures on the back of your books."

"Thanks," Brennan replied, throwing a traumatized look at Booth.

"Babe. What are you doing here?" he tried to redirect his wife, taking her by her shoulder.

"I thought it would be nice to be at Parker's game tomorrow, too. It took some finagling, but I got Monday off. And besides, I wanted to surprise you. Figured you could show me around some of your old haunts." Her green eyes sparkled.

"You should have told me you were coming…" he trailed off, but she had already turned her attention back to Brennan.

"I'll be honest. I usually hate crime novels, but after Seeley encouraged me I read yours and I loved them. You really have a way with the characters." She slid in the seat next to Brennan and leaned in confidentially. "You know, when I first met Seeley and all he could talk about was his amazing, genius partner back in D.C., I thought to myself, 'Jennifer, you don't stand a chance.' But the more he talked, the more I realized that you must just be this extraordinary person, and I just found myself really wanting to meet you too."

"That's…really sweet of you to say." Bones was struggling to raise her voice over a whisper. Booth felt a strong, sudden urge to scoop her up and carry her away so she didn't have to face this shame with him. This part wasn't her burden. It was his.

"Sorry I interrupted your dinner, though…I thought maybe I could wait, but I just got too excited." Jen's big smile faded to a more concerned look. "Dr. Brennan? Are you okay?"

No. She wasn't okay, and Booth could see it.

"I just…I'm not feeling quite right today. I'm sorry. It…it was nice to meet you, Jen. Booth, thanks for everything today. I just think…I have to go." She stood, and seemed to sway a little before steadying herself on the chair. He reached over to help her, and she shriveled away from his touch. "I'm fine," she said softly, not looking him in the eye. Helplessly, he watched her go.

"You sure she's okay, Seeley? Maybe you should go see."

It was the permission that he wanted so badly, but looking into his wife's innocent eyes, he just couldn't betray her again today. "Bones'll be okay," he said quietly. "She always is."

--

There was no relief from the cacophony in his mind. Jen had traveled all these miles to surprise him and Parker. She was a good wife, and a good stepmother, when she got the chance. And all he could think about was Bones.

Another thing about Jen was that she wasn't stupid, so he was somewhat surprised that she didn't call him on his distraction for the rest of the evening, while they took in some of the landmarks and had dinner. She talked animatedly about her work and probed about his own (sometimes having to ask the same question several times before he processed what she was saying). By the time they got back to the hotel room, he was completely and utterly annihilated. He collapsed on the armchair in the room while his wife went into the bathroom to ready herself for bed.

What the hell was he supposed to do? Why the hell did Jen have to come before he and Bones could come to some sort of decision, or at least an agreement about what were possibilities, and what were not? He felt angry for a moment at Jen, followed immediately by guilt. As if she were responsible for giving him space to work out the fuck-up that she didn't even know about. None of this was her fault.

What was Bones doing right now? Where was she? He half-hoped for, while the other half hoped against, that she had gone to Angela on this night. She shouldn't be alone right now. He should be with her. But the other, selfish part of him knew how much Angela was going to hate him if she had any inkling of the mess Booth had made of her friend's life. He wouldn't want to meet Ange in a dark alleyway if she knew everything that had happened.

But Bones was the most important thing. No matter what, he needed to see her again. He just needed to figure out how the hell to do it without destroying Jen, or Bones, or himself…

When he looked up, he was surprised to see his wife there right in front of him. He hadn't even heard her approaching. She was wearing the short, light-green silky nightgown he had given her for their 1-year-anniversary. Before he could respond, she had straddled him on the chair where he sat.

"Jen…"

"Shh. It's been so long since we've had some time away, Seeley." Her lips brushed his jaw, and his neck. "And I know you've been stressed." She massaged his shoulders with her hands. "I think…that treating tonight as a vacation…would be really good for us." Lifting her head, she pressed her lips onto his.

A wave of nausea hit him, and now he knew how Bones must have felt when she saw his wife rush in to hug him in the diner. He couldn't do this. Not when he had just been with Temperance earlier that day. Not when she was carrying his child. Not when he was so in love with her that it felt like his heart was cracking open.

"Jen…" He used his hands to pull her lips from his, and she looked at him questioningly. "I…not tonight, okay? I'm just…really tired, and…" He saw her face darken. It was a typical story lately. He was running out of excuses. Usually, she was comforting, understanding. But not now.

"What is up with you, Seeley?" she asked him, climbing off his lap with an edge to her voice that he had never heard before. "What's wrong? Please, just tell me. Are you not attracted to me anymore? Is that the problem?" She looked like she was going to cry, or scream, or both, and his heart broke for her.

"No…you're beautiful. You know I think you're beautiful."

"Then why do you act like it's such an ordeal to touch me anymore? Why?" She began to pace in front him. "We've hardly talked in months. I know that intimacy in marriage ebbs and flows…I know that…but this isn't normal. And I came here today thinking that maybe if I surprised you, if we did something different…" Tears escaped from the corners of her eyes. "Seeley…I can't tell you how badly I want to make this work. How much I want to save our marriage. Please just tell me what I have to do." Her face was desperate, and the nauseous feeling resurfaced inside of him.

He had thought he had felt helpless before…but this surpassed everything. "You do everything you can. You are so great," he whispered. Honestly.

He expected her frustration, her anger. But he didn't expect what came out of her mouth next. "On Thursday, after you left, I was trying to decide if I could join you. So I called Rebecca Friday to ask details about Parker's game so that I could just show up and you'd be surprised. You can imagine my surprise when she told me she had no idea you were coming. You had left early to spend time with your son, but neither your son nor his mother knew anything about it."

Staring was all he could do.

"At first I was scared that something had happened to you. Then I called. And you were fine. Distant, but fine." Her tears had dried for the moment, and her voice took on a numb quality. "A million things went through my head. So many scenarios, each worse than the last. All night, I turned each one over in my mind. And at the end of it, I came to only one conclusion."

He didn't want to know what that conclusion was.

"I came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. I loved my husband, and I wanted my marriage to work." Moving over, she stood directly in front of him, eyes boring into his. "So tell me how to make this work," she whispered.

At her words, a miracle happened. All the jumbled-up thoughts suddenly came together and knitted up into one, tight, undeniable conclusion, much like they did for Jen on her sleepless night. He loved her. And there was only one thing he could do. There was only one right thing he could do.

His eyes cleared. "Let's talk," he said quietly.

--

**A/N: Let me know what's going on in those little heads of yours...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Aheeeeem. Haaaappy BIRRRRTHDAY dear BEEEELLLAAA...**

**Okay, fine. Enough singing. Will simply get to the last part of Bella's angstastic gift. Hope you liked, C.**

--

It was late. So late. The normally-bustling streets of D.C. were mostly quiet now, save the occasional early-morning traveler and a few homeless people who shuffled to wherever they were going next in this world. Rarely had this place seemed so eerie.

The sleepy voice that answered the phone quickly became more alert at his voice, but it took a moment to hear the buzz that signified the allowance of his entry into the building. He took the stairs and ascended slowly, finding the door unlocked and open for him once he got there.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she told him, tiredly, wrapping her robe tighter around her body as she curled her legs underneath her on the couch.

"Sorry," he told her softly. He took a seat on the opposite end of the couch, rubbing his eyes before meeting hers. "And I'm sorry for today, at the diner. That must have been pretty horrible for you."

She didn't deny it. "And for you," she replied simply.

"Yes," he agreed.

"Where's Jen?"

"Back at the hotel room."

"And why aren't you there with her?"

"Because I couldn't be."

Brennan let the moment hang in questioning silence, which he knew he had to respond to eventually.

"I told her everything, Bones."

He had maybe expected a reaction…of anger or outrage, or relief, or something, but she didn't show one on her face. "I see," she said quietly. "And…she kicked you out."

"No."

"Oh?"

"She asked me to stay."

Brennan's eyes widened slightly, then returned to normal…what passed for normal these days. "Wow." She looked as if she were struggling for words. "That's…amazing."

Booth nodded tiredly. "She is amazing. And also very afraid of losing me. Apparently, has been for awhile."

"Oh," she replied, looking lost.

He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "She said…if it were what you wanted…that she and I could take the baby. And raise it as ours."

That numb look was quickly falling back over his partner's beautiful face, and he knew he had to finish this story before she shut down completely.

"I told her I couldn't."

"You couldn't," she echoed.

"I couldn't. None of it. I couldn't raise the child I created with you with her. I couldn't let her take responsibility for saving our marriage when it's impossible. I couldn't set her up for failure like that. Or myself."

She was taking in his words, thoughtfully, but still, she offered him nothing.

"Temperance." He took her hand across the couch, and she looked down to where their bodies touched, surprised. "You know…to me, marriage has always been about love. Above all else, it's about love. And when I heard my wife begging for me to let her fix this…her, as if it were her fault …I knew. I knew that the loving thing was to let her go. Let her find someone who can give her everything, like she deserves. Not let her remain in a marriage in which her husband's heart is elsewhere."

"Booth…" But he was on a roll.

"And the loving thing to do for you is to be in your life…and our child's…in any way you'll allow me to be." He took her other hand, looked at her desperately.

"Booth…"

"I know this isn't a happily-ever-after situation, Bones. But…it's the right thing. I know that it's the right thing."

Her eyes were shining with unfallen tears. "How can you know that?"

He couldn't quite explain that himself. "I'm not sure. I just know."

She paused for a second, so many emotions running over her face at one time. "But. How can I know?"

Looking at her questioningly, his heart fell a little. He should have known this wouldn't be easy. He hadn't even realized he hoped this would change everything, until right now.

"How would I ever know that the reason you are with me is because you want to be? And not because of your guilt over all of this, and your sense of responsibility to this child."

He started to speak. Stopped. Opened his mouth again. Closed it. Sighed. "You would…you'd just have to trust me, I suppose. Even though I've been the most untrustworthy son of a bitch in the universe. To most everyone I care about."

No words were spoken for a long time. He should have known. Just because he had an epiphany didn't mean that she would share it.

"Let me ask you something, Booth," she said quietly. "What if I were to tell you that I couldn't be with you? That no matter how badly I wanted to, I just couldn't under these circumstances?"

He thought for a moment. "I would be by myself for awhile. Think. Try to understand how we got to this place. Hope that someday, we'd all recover from it."

"And what if I told you that even though I decided to give birth to this child, that I didn't intend to raise her? That I decided to let someone who has wanted to be a parent adopt her?"

Again, a pause. "I'd raise her. On my own."

"And what would you tell her about her mother?" she challenged. One of those repressed tears fell down her cheek.

This time, he didn't pause. "I'd tell her that her mother was an extraordinary person who wasn't ready for us yet."

Her eyes squeezed shut, more tears escaped, as she nodded.

"I feel like I don't know anything, Booth. I have three Ph.D.'s. And I know nothing."

Taking her gently into his arms, he pressed his own tear-streaked face against her forehead. "You know, Temperance…what I really realized tonight? That I don't really believe in taking the wrong path. The only wrong paths are ones where we don't learn from the journey."

Her eyes cast upwards at him. "I think…I've learned…how wonderful and painful love can really be." There was no judgment in her voice. Only simple understanding.

He nodded. "And I've learned…that somewhere along whatever way we go…we always get what we deserve."

Her face reflected her acceptance and agreement, as she leaned down onto his shoulder and rested there.

He still wasn't entirely sure what path they would end up taking. But at this moment, he closed his eyes and believed desperately that the conclusion they would both come to, is they would take it together.

--

**A/N: The End.**

**OR IS IT??**

**Exciting news...again! My super-awesome co-writer/bff KinseyJo is writing a continuation to this story! I KNOW! Just when you were about to breathe a big sigh of relief for it being OVER. **

**This ending, if you haven't noticed, is a sort of choose-your own adventure deal. You can choose to believe that from here on is happily-ever-after. If you read KJ's continuation, you are not allowed to hate her for whatever adventure _she_ chooses. But you can also rest assured that she is an even bigger fluff-bunny than I, at heart:) She will make things right.**

**Her story shall be called Just a Cup of Coffee. You should prob. alert her so you know when it's coming. This story was my baby; I shall place it gently into her capable hands.**

**Thank you all for sticking this one out with me. Much love to you all. Esp. Bella, Kinsey, and Mia, who inspired me throughout this adventure.**


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